


Egg Whites

by what_a_dork_fish



Category: X-Men: First Class - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Meringue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 17:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: Charles is making pavlova!





	Egg Whites

**Author's Note:**

> This is for that nonny on tumblr who sent me that headcanon/prompt at like two in the morning. I love you, Nonny.

Charles is frustrated.

He wants Erik, badly, and he can tell Erik wants him because sometimes he’ll catch sparks of lust crackling like electricity across Erik’s mind when he looks at Charles.

They had sex once, while they were on the road. They were both drunk off their asses, though, so Charles doesn’t count it. He remembers Erik being very loud as Charles fucked him into the mattress. It was noises of pleasure, though, so Charles had supposed it was alright. And he’d cried Charles’ name several times...

Charles wants to do it sober. He wants to know if Erik is still loud, if he’ll still scream Charles’ name.

He looks down and sees that his trousers are tenting.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. Pushing away from his desk, he stands and stomps out of the room, down the hall, down the stairs, and to the kitchen. Maybe baking something will help him calm down.

He likes baking. It’s measured and logical and at the end you get something sweet to eat. It also takes lots of attention, for him, at least. He wants everything to be perfect. So it’s a good strategy for distraction. He decides to make something that takes effort, something the others will enjoy as well. Something with meringue, since that will take a long time to whip. 

He decides on pavlova. He hasn’t made it in a while, but surely it will still be good. He gets out the eggs and cracks them, separating white from yolk expertly, and sets the yolks aside for use in something else. He’ll think what while he’s beating the whites.

Beating… white… and there comes a point in every meringue’s life where it’s slightly gooey…

Damn it, Charles, get your mind out of the gutter! He scowls and goes to find the caster sugar.

He’s pouring sugar into the egg whites as he whips them, and has just decided to make custard as well as meringue, when Erik walks in.

Immediately Charles starts hearing Erik’s groans again, sees the way his skin flushes with lust--but he controls himself, even as he feels the sparks flying off of Erik. Charles smiles, and he can’t help it being warmer than usual. “Hello,” he greets Erik cheerfully. “Perfect timing, maybe you can help me.”

“I can’t cook,” Erik tells him flatly.

“But surely you can whip egg whites. Maybe you can practice your control on them.” Charles smiles cherubically as Erik eyes him for a moment. Then Erik nods and walks over, holding out his hand. The metal whisk begins to whip the egg whites steadily and briskly. Charles watches with a smile; he loves watching other mutants in action. It’s just so wonderful, to know he and Raven aren’t alone.

Lust is sparking over Erik’s mind again, but this time there are little trails of longing and affection following them. Charles looks up at Erik, meets his eyes, forgets to breathe. He’s so beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.

Erik swallows hard and Charles traces the movement with his gaze, watching it start at the jaw and ripple down his throat… He wants to kiss that throat, suddenly. Kiss him all over. All over…

Charles remembers that promise he’d made to himself, that drunken night when he’d made Erik cry his name. He’d sworn that he  _ was _ going to suck Erik’s cock before this was all over, because he’d never sucked one as big as Erik’s. But he’d fallen asleep before he could do so.

Now is his chance.

Where are the others? Outside, he can feel their minds on the lawn. They’re taking a break. They’re also close to the house. He smiles at Erik. He’ll just have to be quiet.

Erik frowns back at Charles, puzzled--and then his eyes widen as Charles comes closer and drops to his knees in front of him. Charles slowly starts undoing Erik’s belt and says, “Here’s the deal: You stop, I stop.”

“What? Charles, I don’t think--” Erik shuts up with an adorable little squeak as Charles undoes Erik’s jeans’ zipper with his teeth.

“You’re going to have to be quiet,” Charles murmurs, pulling down Erik’s jeans. Erik isn’t all the way hard, but he’s getting there. His cock knows what’s up, even if he’s still confused. Charles smirks up at him. “Can you do that, love? Keep beating those eggs and keep quiet?”

Erik is staring down at him with wide eyes. Slowly, he runs the fingers of the hand not held out to the whisk through Charles’ hair. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Excellent.”

Charles has to tease him a little to get him fully hard, and Erik muffles noises deep in his throat (oooh, how good is  _ he _ at sucking cock?), but when he’s ready Charles takes him in. Erik gasps and gives a little moan, fingers clenching in Charles’ hair. The brisk scrape of whisk on bowl never falters. Charles smirks and begins his favorite technique.

Charles has often been told he’s a natural at sex, but really, all he does is read his partner’s (occasionally partners’) mind(s) to see what they most want. Erik wants everything. He’s touch-starved, he wants as much pleasure as he can get because he doesn’t know when he’ll get it next. Charles looks up at Erik, thinking, and sees that he’s watching Charles, biting his lip, but that’s barely muffling what would be full-throated, quite loud moans if he let them out. Charles smirks again, and slows down, almost too slow, drawing out a long, low groan of protest.

_ Quieter, darling, _ he whispers telepathically.  _ Or they’ll hear. _

Erik whimpers instead of answering and his hips jerk, desperation tinging the cloud of lust obscuring his thoughts. Charles gives a nice hard suck and Erik gasps.

The whisk does not stop.

Charles pulls away just before Erik comes, getting it all over his face, but at least he doesn’t have to taste it. Not that he didn’t enjoy the taste of Erik’s skin, but jizz makes him gag.  He looks up and smiles. Erik is panting heavily, the imprints of his teeth on his bottom lip, face and neck flushed. And he’s staring down at Charles like he’s the most wonderful creature on the planet.

“Can I fuck you tonight?” Charles asks him.

“Yes,” Erik answers.

“Good.” Charles stands and goes to the sink to wash his face. When he turns back, Erik is right there behind him, looming, and he puts his hand on Charles’ crotch and asks, “Can I help you with that?”

It takes Charles a moment to remember that he’s hard, too, because the smell of Erik’s cologne is so good. “Just a moment,” he murmurs, pressing close enough to make Erik’s breath shudder before going to check the meringue. Perfect stiff peaks are forming, and he smiles at that.

“Excellent,” he says with great satisfaction. “You really have a kna--aahhh!”

Erik, busy placing a hickey right on Charles’ favorite spot on his neck, mumbled something that Charles couldn’t understand and undid his trousers, sliding both hands in Charles’ underwear.

“Please--do repeat that, darling,” Charles pants, bracing his own hands on the table.

Erik paused in his duty to mutter, “Stiffer than that damn meringue,” and went back to sucking and biting.

Charles laughed. “That was a horrible joke,” he chuckled.

“Mmm. Don’t care.” Erik’s hands were very busy, and Charles’ knees were shaky, and he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Will you really fuck me tonight?”

Charles reached up and buried his hand in Erik’s hair. “As hard and long as you want,” he whispered.

He felt Erik smile against his skin.


End file.
